[The Imperial Court]
The Emperor's gaze had already turned toward the left side of his Golden Throne. He straightened, lifting his hand a few centimeters—a silent command for the Chamberlain to proceed.
"Entering! His Highness, the Crown Prince!"
The raised finger paused.
Alden crossed the threshold, and the court watched him with intense curiosity, their eyes gleaming like wolves circling a wounded deer, waiting for a moment of vulnerability. A subtle darkness seemed to emanate from his eyes, and he appeared sleep-deprived.
Alden stopped at the designated mark and bowed low.
"Greetings, Your Imperial Majesty."
Behind the throne, the grandfather clock chimed once. The session had begun.
The Chamberlain opened his parchment. "The first item of today's session concerns the new trade route with the northern city-states."
"Surely, the counting of coins can wait."
From the highest bench, a voice pierced through the hall. Duke Ashvale stood and surveyed the room, his eyes skipping the bureaucrat to land squarely on Alden.
"Your Majesty," Ashvale continued, bowing slightly. "We are all curious to hear the Crown Prince's findings regarding the Rosewick tragedy. The empire awaits justice. Why not start the proceedings with him?"
Duke Viremont and Duke Varik inclined their heads in silent agreement.
Duke Helbart didn't bother to rise. He merely smoothed his cuffs, his voice drifting lazily into the quiet. "That is... assuming he found anything at all."
Helbart's retainers stifled their laughter.
Duke Varik did not join the laughter. He remained focused on Alden like a jeweler inspecting a gem for flaws—or value. There was no hostility in his expression, only the cold calculation of a man weighing a heavy wager. He seemed to be measuring the Prince against the rumors, perhaps considering if the boy standing before him was finally worth the price of an alliance—or the hand of his granddaughter.
The Emperor observed Alden as he stepped back to the center of the floor.
"Your Majesty," Alden said, his bow precise. "I am ready to present my findings regarding the tragedy, along with my recommendations."
"Very well." The Emperor turned his attention to Alden. "Crown Prince Alden. Present your findings."
Alden straightened, projecting his voice to the farthest corner of the hall.
"Your Majesty. The culprit is the Silver Star Tower, under the direction of Tower Master Geralt."
The scribes froze mid-stroke. Duke Helbart’s retainers eyed each other suspiciously, doubting their hearing.
In the back row, the Silver Star representative—Conner—shot to his feet. He slammed his hand against the wooden bench. "Your Highness! You cannot simply accuse our Silver Star without basis."
He bowed frantically toward the Emperor. "Your Majesty. It seems His Highness is indeed too young for such a heavy responsibility. We request a renewed investigation by someone with more experience."
Alden’s fingers adjusted the edge of his left glove, and his eyes settled on Conner. "In your opinion, who is responsible, Representative Conner?"
"The initial investigation identified the Alchemists' Conclave as the primary suspect. Logan Valecrest of their tower was the executor." Conner stepped out of the gallery and into the center well. "Your Majesty, the Arcanum produced the refined Bavarium. Their disciple was there when it detonated. And according to testimony from the Arcanum's own senior disciples, Disciple Logan acted on orders from Tower Master Hadrian himself!"
Viremont settled deeper into his chair, fingers steeped.
Devon exhaled a shaky breath. His worried eyes kept turning to the Prince.
Whispers reverberated through the room. "Why isn’t the Prince responding?" Countess Alderton sneered. "Perhaps he has nothing else to say."
Alden turned to the grandfather clock behind the throne and closed his eyes.
The sound of footsteps, a half-mile distant. The groan of a prison door.
Alden opened his eyes.
"And who made that claim, Representative?" His voice was soft. "Could you provide evidence to support your claim against Disciple Logan?"
Conner turned his head to his servant and murmured an order. The servant rushed out, returning moments later with a stack of papers. "These are written testimonies of the three senior-most disciples of Arcanum. Their names were hidden for safety. Here are the testimonies, Your Majesty."
He also gave Alden a copy of the parchments. Alden read them, face impassive, before looking up. "Are these claims true, Representative? They all claim to have witnessed Tower Master Hadrian’s plan to cause the Rosewick Explosion months earlier?"
"Of course, Your Highness. Considering your young age, you may not be familiar with these proceedings." Conner smirked and replied, "Lord Chamberlain has already been informed about their identity, and Imperial personnel were present. We simply can’t risk a public announcement."
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"You make a valid point, but perhaps my youthful inexperience is still preventing me from fully comprehending something here. Could you please elaborate on a few more points?" Alden asked politely.
Duke Helbart’s retainers exchanged glances, their mouths covered in mocking laughter. Some of their expressions were so blatant that they could be interpreted as taunting: "I told you… See?"
The Emperor narrowed his pale golden eyes while Magnus whispered in his ears.
Conner smugly replied, "Of course, Your Highness, that’s a good attitude. Ask away."
Alden raised the parchments before Conner and inquired, "Pray tell… why did none of these witnesses prevent the incident or report it to the authorities? As the Crown Prince of the Empire, I find their lack of patriotism incomprehensible. Why only after the casualties were incurred did they come forward?"
Alden flexed his fingers. "Even now, they claim to need protection from a comatose man while Disciple Logan is held in prison. Does this not sound absurd to you, Representative?"
Helbart’s retainers fell silent, stunned. Duke Ashvale and Varik leaned forward, their eyes wide with surprise.
"What are you attempting to assert, Your Highness?" Conner’s neck throbbed as he pivoted toward the throne. "Some fear for their lives more than others, but that doesn’t diminish their testimonies. At least they found the courage to testify against their own Tower Master. Not everyone possesses that strength."
"Indeed, it’s commendable if true. But is that all?" Alden interrupted, disregarding Conner's enthusiastic monologue.
"What?" Conner took a moment to process the question before his jaw dropped. "Are you suggesting that the evidence is insufficient?"
"Is it not?" Alden asked. "Did Tower Master Hadrian agree to the accusations? Did Disciple Logan accept his guilt?"
Alden continued. "Your Majesty, Tower Master Hadrian has been bedridden in paralysis for the past four months. As for Disciple Logan—he purchased candied fruits for his nieces when the explosion occurred. The blast threw him twenty feet. He bears burns across both arms and torso, examined and documented by the palace physician."
Conner’s jaw clenched, his vision pulling toward the servant's passage as if expecting someone.
Feeling the court's attention on him, he forced his focus back to the Prince. "Perhaps as a cover, Your Highness! Hadrian could have orchestrated this to precisely create that defense—"
"A cover that necessitates his own disciple to stand at the center of the blast radius." Alden’s tone remained unperturbed. "Unusual commitment."
Duke Ashvale’s mouth twitched, and Duke Viremont leaned slightly to his right, a satisfied grin playing on his lips.
Finally, Duke Helbart stood up from his seat. "Your Highness, Silver Star is one of the Five Great Alchemy Towers. The accusation itself demands extraordinary evidence. Why name them specifically when the Alchemists’ Conclave had equal access to the catalyst?"
"So is Arcanum, Your Grace." Alden signaled to Limon. The aide stepped forward, presenting a leather portfolio to the Chamberlain.
"Bavarium. The catalyst." Alden turned to face the assembly, holding up a parchment for the court to see. "Transaction records from the Alchemists' Conclave. Corroborated by sworn testimony of Disciple Logan, disciple of Tower Master Hadrian. The purchase order bears Tower Master Geralt's personal signature."
Conner straightened, forcing a smile. "The purchase was legal, so it’s not grounds for conviction."
Alden nodded before his focus shifted to the pendulum of the clock. One swing, two. Just as five seconds ticked by, a servant entered through the side door. Conner’s expression turned triumphant. "Your Highness," he exclaimed, "since you place so much faith in the suspect’s testimony, why not allow him to speak? You asked whether Logan agreed to have committed the crime? Let me present the suspect himself."
The heavy doors groaned open. A guard hauled Logan into the center of the courtroom. He scanned the gallery in panic.
Logan’s expression crumbled when his eyes met Alden’s. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he collapsed, his voice a broken whisper. "Forgive me, Your Highness. I never deserved your trust."
The hushed silence fell upon the room.
The Chamberlain, adjusting his gray robe, addressed Logan. "Logan Valecrest, do you confess to the accusation? That you, on the orders of Tower Master Hadrian, caused the Rosewick Explosion, resulting in the loss of many Imperial citizens?"
Logan hung his head low, biting his lower lip. He squeezed his eyelids shut, then opened them again. Turning to Alden once more, his mouth opened, expression filled with guilt.
"I..."
Logan froze. The words refused to surface. A deathly pallor spread across his face.
Duke Ashvale tilted his head. Varik peered suspiciously. In the back, Countess Alderton whispered, "Why call him here just to stand mute?"
Conner's arms crossed tight against his chest.
A minute passed.
The Chamberlain’s patience wore thin. "Logan Valecrest. Do. You. Confess?"
Logan opened his mouth again, but this time, something was different. His body convulsed, and he fell to the floor headfirst, clawing his throat as if choking. He frantically fisted his throat, desperately trying to catch his breath.
Alden rushed forward, kneeling beside Logan as if to provide medical aid. He leaned in and whispered, "Hadrian is safe. But next time, Logan, don’t forget who your Master is." His hand tightened on Logan’s throat, applying more pressure. "I won’t forgive this twice."
Logan's eyes reddened as he frantically nodded. "You are fine now," Alden said, pulling back and speaking to the room. "I believe you have the judgment to tell the truth, Disciple Logan. Please tell the court exactly what happened."
Finally, the invisible gag snapped after a violent fit of coughing. Logan’s mouth opened. "Ye... yes, Your Highness. I will only tell the truth." His spine straightened. "I did not cause the Rosewick Incident. I was merely there to purchase supplies for my sister. My Master never ordered me to detonate anything, let alone cause such devastation. Everything I said before was entirely accurate. I swear upon my name and the power of Arcanum. But…"
He pointed a trembling finger at Conner. "The representative of Silver Star threatened me. Yesterday, he visited my cell and claimed that if I didn’t take the blame, they would kill my Master before the court could. He promised that if I accepted execution, they would take my Master to safety and provide the cure he needs. I…" Logan’s voice cracked. "I only feared for his life."
Conner shouted, "Your Highness, Disciple Logan lies to shift blame from the Arcanum onto us. You’re asking this court to convict Silver Star solely on the word of an imprisoned suspect!"
"What do you mean, Representative?" Alden walked a few steps and leaned slightly to the side. "Isn’t Disciple Logan... your witness?"
Conner stammered, turning towards the Golden Throne. "He… he agreed to confess his crimes, but now he’s retracting his words and fabricating threats! It’s a conspiracy against us, Your Majesty. Please believe me. Why would Silver Tower do this?"
"Master Hadrian, too, has no reason to do this," Logan let out a choked gasp and began to sob openly. "I kept telling everyone, but no one believed me. Except for His Highness. We never planned this, and why would I blast an area near where my sister lives? What if she got caught up? I could never…"
The Emperor gestured. Guards hauled Logan out of the courtroom, his muffled cries echoing until the heavy doors slammed shut.
Every gaze followed until the door closed. Countess Alderton’s fan ceased moving, and Count Devon released his grip on the sword pommel.
"Now…" Alden bowed to the throne. "I shall begin, Your Majesty."
"What does he mean by ‘begin’?" murmurs began among the ranks of lower nobles. "Does he have more?" Someone replied in disbelief.
"I present my first piece of evidence," Alden announced. "Correspondence between Tower Master Geralt of Silver Star and Tower Master Vorenus of Crimson Veil."
Conner gasped, staring blankly. "What… what correspondence?"
Alden signaled the guards. "It wouldn’t be fair if I merely presented the document in the absence of either participant."
At his signal, the heavy doors opened. Boots clattered on marble, accompanied by the scrape of iron chains. Guards dragged a man in his fifties into the hall. His coat hung askew, buttons torn, his eyes wild with panic.
